“Do you know," Peter asked, "why swallows build in the eaves of houses? It is to listen to the stories.” ~ J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan


crashing into the light

cracked maps of concrete under my feet
i see london i see france
wings stilled over the kitchen floors of asia
crashes in the bedroom carpets of the sahara,
touching me just so just so,
barely barely before beginning their barrel rolls into the unknown
wings flickering tickling
annoyingly out of reach
slipping down my arm
skittering across the runway of my thigh
away from my slaps and curses
flying away into the light.

i feel them long time after they fall
wobbling traces of wingtips stains on my skin
itches i can't scratch away
tiny tattoos of flight
i wish i may i wish i might
shadows left behind
passports to unnamed places
touching me just so just so,
barely barely there on my pinkest toe,
the one that goes into the water first.


day 3 of NaPoWriMo, national poetry writing month.
a poem a day.


  1. As I tweeted, its beauty haunts me and terrifies me by where my imagination takes me with this poem. Wonderfully done.

  2. Just a perfect combination of image and expedition.

  3. you poet you.
    again, stunning.

  4. Tiny tattoos of flight: that lifts me up. Beautiful.

  5. Really! You need to put your wonderful work into a book. I would buy it. Lovely!

  6. ha this is so playful...i like and the inclusion of well known rhymes as well is a nice touch...the echo of just so is nice too...well done...

  7. Sweet~
    a very pulling collection of words..


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